Letting Go
by Gale Weathers Riley
Summary: Is it really possible to let go? Or does it stay in your heart forever, no matter how broken it may be?


Notes: I haven't abandoned "Negligence", but I'm having a bit of a writer's block on it. With all that happened on my page, I decided to write about it. It's more or less what happened…

Chapter One:

I lay in the uncomfortable hospital bed, where the room I was put into was as dreary as my mood and the situation I was in. At least I was alone, I mused, and not sharing the room with anyone else. I don't think I could take any company right now. My room was what they considered "semi-private". I had no public fans to deal with, but every second hospital staff member dropped by to see me, wanting me to autograph a book or do a picture with a signing. I politely refused to take any pictures with them like I normally would with fans. Not with the way I looked, even with a bit of makeup on I looked like something out of the Risen Dead. Dark brown walls in decor made the room feel like the cave where I wished I could hide in for a few years, if not forever. I sighed and adjusted the blankets, wincing at the slight pain I still had.

At least I had a view, although it wasn't the view I needed right now. I faced a window that overlooked what must have been a daycare center next door to the hospital. I could hear the kids clearly, laughing and shouting. None of them could have been over the age of five. My heart constricted at the sound and watching them was even worse. I wished I could turn my bed away from the window. It was excruciating to move in any other position, except on my back, so I couldn't even turn around and lie on my side to block the window's view. I would have closed the blinds, but the room was so dark already and, even though it wasn't happening, I felt like I was being choked. I needed the fresh air. I swallowed hard. This wasn't supposed to happen. This wasn't our happily ever after, our life as a couple to who everyone admired and looked up to. Even the fans had voted us Cutest Couple of the Year at the MTV Movie Awards. I was surprised that we were even nominated, although Dewey said how we could not be. I smiled slightly at the thought. I wasn't doing much smiling lately, at least for the past week.

Just then I heard a light knock on the door before I heard his shoes on the linoleum floor. I didn't need to guess, I knew who it was. I looked up and Dewey stood a few paces away from my bed, still in his uniform and his hat in his hands. He didn't say anything, but just wore an expression of…I couldn't tell if it was sadness or disappointment, maybe it was a combination of both. We didn't need to say anything; we both felt the mutual tug at our heart strings. He set his hat down on the hospital bedside table and leaned over towards me. I looked into his warm brown eyes, now clouded with uncertainty and was that a little bit of fear I saw? I could feel myself slowly drowning in them. He was my rock, my place of safety and I knew that as much as I tried to say I was fine and I was strong enough to deal with this, deep down I knew I wasn't. He knew it too, but used reverse psychology on me, tricking me into thinking I was actually doing the emotions I wanted to portray, despite the demons that lay beneath that.

He moved in and kissed me so gently, you'd think it was my lips that had been inured. It wasn't. It was my heart more than anything else. I had never experienced heartbreak, I was far too sassy and too smart for the guys I had dated before I had met Dewey. Now I knew why people called it "heartbreak". It literally felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest and shattered to the floor. I closed my eyes during the kiss and then began to feel the tears well up. I opened my eyes and the tears fell. "Hey now…" Dewey whispered while cupping my face and wiping away the fallen tears with his thumbs. I exhaled slowly, determined not to break down. I held onto his wrists and tried to pry his hands from my face. He tightened his hold and kissed me again, adding a little more pressure this time. I felt my eyes fall shut and I lost myself in the kiss, lost myself in him. He nibbled on my bottom lip and I opened willingly for him. He slipped his tongue easily into my mouth, searching for mine. I moaned softly, then tugged at his wrists, a little more forcefully this time. He pulled back, but only just an inch. Being this up close to his face, I could see the red rims around his eyes, evidence that he had been crying. I felt the pieces of my heart sink lower, if that was even possible. This was my entire fault. I had done this. If only I had taken better care of myself, if only I had monitored myself more carefully, if only I had listened to the doctors when they warned me that it was a high risk pregnancy, if only, if only, if only…

"Dewey," I whispered gently. "Dewey, not now, okay? I just…I…" I couldn't finish my sentence because I couldn't find the words for what I wanted to say. He nodded slowly, still lingering in front of me, cupping my face. He skimmed his thumbs over my cheeks once more and then moved back, taking a seat in the visitors chair. He reached for my hand, which I instinctively moved so I held my hands in my lap and not on my sides, closest to the edge of the bed. He flinched, although he tried to cover it up and I avoided looking at him. I looked down at my hands instead. It just seemed that the more I let him in, the more I hurt him and I couldn't do that. I just couldn't because I cared about him too much, I loved him with everything I have and when you love someone, you want to protect them. I had learnt that over the years while we were together as a couple. I never knew what it was supposed to be like before I met Dewey.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and hanging his head. Without looking up, he asked quietly, "What have the doctors said?" I licked my lips nervously. "I…I'm not sure yet, exactly," I stammered out. I glanced at him before looking down at my hands that were now clutching the blankets, as though trying to find something secure to hold onto. I wasn't ready for this conversation and I didn't want to talk about it right now. "Surely they should be able to tell you why Gale, I mean…" he trailed off. I tensed when I heard the way he said my name. "They're running some tests and did a few scans earlier," I said faintly. "How far along were you exactly? The doctor only told us about two months or so at your last appointment." The question hung in the air like a huge dark cloud, ready to envelope the room into its stormy depths. Yeah. My last appointment. The word "last" cut deep into the tension that was in the air. "Two…two and a half months," I stuttered in a low tone. "Boy or girl?" The questions were of desperation, the desperation that he had no control over. I took a deep breath. "They can't tell properly until 4 and a half to 5 months." He nodded as he processed the information, still struggling to accept it. It was weird in the way I hadn't exactly accepted it, but I hadn't slipped into a little denial the way Dewey had.

"What are we going to do with the baby stuff we've bought so far? Can we exchange it?" I swallowed back a fresh bout of tears. "Dewey please…" I choked out. "Please just not now. I can't think about that right now." I looked up at the white hospital ceiling, more than determined not to let the tears fall, although I felt everything inside me collapse. His expression softened and concern replaced the look of disappointment, although the sadness was still there. Whether I liked it or not, he reached out and forcefully took my hand in both of his, giving it a squeeze. His hands were so warm, just like his heart, which was easily recognizable through is eyes. "You're cold." he said. It was more of a statement than a question. I felt my hand go limp in his. I nodded, shivering a little. I hadn't realized how cold I was. It just wasn't important anymore. Just like I don't realize how hungry I am, that too, just wasn't important anymore. My needs weren't important anymore. It was my needs that were the cause of this. He grasped my hand and lovingly rubbed his thumb over my knuckles, pausing when he reached my wedding ring. I flinched inwardly. He must have seen that, even though I didn't want him to. He got up. He's leaving. Nice going Gale. I bit back more tears. Instead, he tilted his head to the side, almost reassuring me that he wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. Once again he stood over me and kissed me affectionately on the temple. "I'll be right back, okay?" I nodded silently.

When he had left, I wiped the tears from the corner of my eyes before they escaped and sniffed as an uncontrollable sob escaping. I fumbled around for the box of tissues on the bedside table and quickly blew my nose and dabbed at my eyes, hoping that my mascara hadn't run. I managed to compose myself before he got back. He walked through the door with a small smile on his face, carrying one of my baby soft cashmere blankets. Baby soft. Shit. A bad choice of words. I mentally shook it off and looked up at him while he draped it around my shoulders. It was my turn to try and force out a small smile. "Thank you," I murmured before kissing him delicately. I pulled the blanket around my shoulders, relishing in its warmth and familiar smell, which was a hell of a lot more of a comfort than the sterilized hospital smell. It almost had a feeling of protectiveness. I darted a look in Dewey's direction. No. There was my protector, who had saved my life more times than I could count. Not only had he physically saved me from the psycho's who haunted our past, but he had saved me as a person and made me realize that love was possible, even if I didn't believe in it. I do now, as I got to experience it for myself. The problem is that once you open yourself up to love, you also open yourself up to heartbreak. We had loved this baby from the minute that they were conceived, even though at the time we didn't know I was pregnant because it was an act of love.

He took hold of my hand again and I let him this time. It dawned on me at how safe this felt, how safe I felt around him. "Hey," he squeezed my hand again. "You hungry? I could get you something to eat, but I won't risk poisoning you with the hospital cafeteria food or anything that I might attempt to cook." He forced a smile at cracking his own joke. I in turn did the same, smiling quickly before it disappeared behind the saddened features I was so fiercely trying to avoid. "I could get you something from the Home Industry Deli?" He suggested it because he knew that it was one of my favorite places to shop for food. I shook my head. I couldn't stomach food right now. "You sure? You haven't really eaten much since you got here." I felt a small stab of irritation. There wasn't a subject that he was going to drop, even though it was obvious I didn't want to talk. He was pushing conversation and all it was doing was making me feel worse. "No Dewey!" I snapped. "I've said I don't want any food, what part of that do you not understand?" I glared at him, and then regretted the words as soon as they flew from my mouth. The wounded look on his face caused me to physically cringe. "I'm sorry," I said, my tone now soft. "I didn't mean…I mean I know you were only trying to help." I quickly squeezed his hand. He half smiled before saying, "S'okay. I understand." The pieces of my heart swelled with the amount of love I felt for this man. Why couldn't I just open up to him? Allow myself to sob it all out in his strong arms?

I was still looking at him when a nurse came in. I mentally rolled my eyes. Dewey looked at me wearing a question mark on his face, as if to say, "And now?" I answered him back by raising my eyebrows, as if I were saying, "Wait and you'll see what I mean." "How we feeling Ms Weathers? You're looking so much better! Then again you've always looked gorgeous! How do you do it? I'd kill to have a body like yours not to mention your beautiful smile! I did tell you how much of a fan I was…?" She stopped mid sentence, as if to realize who she was talking to and that "I'd kill to" were not exactly the appropriate wording for this conversation. I hid a smile while looking at Dewey and he looked at the floor, also smiling. "Anyway," she babbled on, "Ms Weathers needs to take her medication now, but you're most welcome to stay Sir." I eyed the tray of pills and the glass of water. Shit, those pills were the size of bombs. As if she read my mind she said, rather apologetically, "I'm sorry Ms Weathers, but we can't cut these pills in half or they won't work the way they should. You'll have to swallow them whole. It's easier if you going to eat something afterwards. The food helps to push them down." I sighed. "Fine," I said wearily. "And it's Mrs. Riley now." I looked at Dewey and she saw my hand entwined with his. "Oh." She flushed a little. "Of course, I'm so sorry. I just assumed you'd keep your name as you're so fa – " She was going to say "famous", but caught herself. "Well known." Great recovery there Florence Nightingale, I thought wryly. "I'll change all of your personal information and hospital forms." She nodded and backed out of the room, setting the tray on the shelf next to the door and hastily grabbing the hospital clip board where all the necessary information was obviously kept. I looked at Dewey and he looked at the pills. "I think I'm going to need some food." I smiled at him, genuinely now and he smiled back at the joke I cracked.


End file.
